


no longer mysterious (we know how it works)

by givebackmylifecas



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Secret Relationship, Trans Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givebackmylifecas/pseuds/givebackmylifecas
Summary: “I still don’t think it proves they're in love. They hate each other,” Manila insists and Denver nods his head in agreement.“That’s true, just last week I heard Fonollosa telling Berrote that the coffee he made was bad enough to make him want to walk in front of a bus,” he says. “There’s no way either of them are in love.”Nairobi glowers. “Want to bet?”Teacher!AU where the gang are students and convinced their teachers Martín and Andrés either hate each other or are in love... there's no in between
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 153





	no longer mysterious (we know how it works)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phcbosz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phcbosz/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Barnes & Rogers and the Goddamn Truth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7123282) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> for mav, i hope you like it
> 
> TWs: referenced homophobia and transphobia (as in the words are mentioned, there's no actual trans/homophobia)
> 
> Title from the Richard Siken poem 'Dirty Valentine'

“You’re all wrong, clearly the Professor is the hottest,” Tokyo declares and is immediately booed by the others – Denver even throws a grape at her.

Nairobi snorts into her sandwich. “Imagine thinking the Professor is hot when Señor de Fonollosa is right there in his velvet jackets.”

“No,” Denver says, shaking his head from the other side of their lunch table. “But if we’re going to talk about male teachers, then I refuse to listen to you, if you’re not going to mention Señor Berrote.”

There’s a collective groan from the group and Denver scowls.

“What?”

Stockholm pats his hand consolingly. “Nothing, it’s just…”

“You talk about him a lot,” Manila finishes for her. “Like a lot, a lot.”

“Oh my god,” Tokyo laughs. “Remember when Berrote wore those black jeans and Denver asked to go to the bathroom and walked into the door on his way out because he couldn’t stop staring.”

The others break into laughter and Denver flushes red, burying his face in Stockholm’s curls.

“A disaster bi, if ever I saw one,” Manila sighs and promptly gets flicked on the ear by Denver.

“I’m sorry okay, you all know I love Mónica but if Señor Berrote asked me, I would leave her on the spot.”

Stockholm laughs. “I know, and I would let you. Unfortunately for you, I don’t think he’s ever going to ask.”

“Not when he’s in love with Fonollosa,” Nairobi mutters and all heads turn towards her. “What? I can’t be the only one who’s noticed.”

Tokyo frowns. “Berrote hates everyone – especially Fonollosa. No way is he in love with him.”

“Oh really? Then why did I catch him looking like his heart had been crushed, when Fonollosa had to go talk to Tatiana?” Nairobi demands.

“Who’s Tatiana?” Rio pipes up.

“The Professor’s secretary,” Manila explains. “She’s new, asked everyone to call her by her first name.”

Denver frowns. “I still don’t know why the Professor has a secretary. None of the other teachers do.”

“Because he’s the headmaster, dumbass,” Tokyo snipes, earning herself another grape to the forehead. “He’s very busy and can’t work here and at the university without someone to sort out the minutiae.”

“Minutiae?” Rio questions, his eyes wide, as if Tokyo had personally invented the word.

Manila fake gags before turning to Nairobi. “Anyway, none of that seems like nearly enough proof.”

“She’s right,” Denver sighs. “Maybe Berrote isn’t interested in an old man with too many suit jackets, maybe he’s looking for someone younger.”

Tokyo coughs something that sounds suspiciously like ‘jailbait’ and Stockholm giggles.

“Wait, do we even know if Berrote is gay?” Manila asks.

Rio frowns. “I thought he was trans?”

Denver immediately punches his arm. “He is, but gender and sexuality aren’t the same thing, dumbass. Besides, he’s definitely gay – wasn’t he like… dating Señor Dragic our first year?”

Nairobi nods. “He was. He’s also definitely in love with Fonollosa.”

“You have no proof,” Manila reiterates. “Longing looks mean nothing.”

“Then how about this, for proof?” Nairobi says, triumphantly, leaning on their table and making everyone shuffle in closer. “Yesterday, I had history with Murillo and the Professor stopped by after class. I needed to talk to her about my paper so I waited, and I heard her tell him that he should invite Andrés over for dinner because it would make Martín happy.”

When there’s no reaction to her words, Nairobi scowls. “Andrés is de Fonollosa and Martín is Berrote… they’re clearly trying to set them up.”

“You really think so?” Denver asks, looking slightly crestfallen.

Stockholm smiles. “I think it’s nice, maybe Señor de Fonollosa will be less grumpy then.”

“Maybe Berrote will stop getting so excited about maths,” Tokyo says, making Rio snigger.

“I still don’t think it proves anything. They hate each other,” Manila insists and Denver nods his head in agreement.

“That’s true, just last week I heard Fonollosa telling Berrote that the coffee he made was bad enough to make him want to walk in front of a bus,” he says. “There’s no way either of them are in love.”

Nairobi glowers. “Want to bet?”

“Ooh, now it’s interesting,” Tokyo says.

Denver shakes his head. “No. I’m not betting on the love lives of two teachers who clearly hate each other.”

Manila looks at him, then holds out her hand to Nairobi. “Deal. If there’s no conclusive proof they’re into each other by the end of the trip to Berlin, then I win. Bring me something concrete and you win.”

“What does the winner get though?” Nairobi asks, raising an eyebrow.

Manila considers her for a moment. “If you win, I’ll get you a date with Bogota. If I win… I get a date with you.”

A hush falls over the group as Nairobi and Manila stare at each other. Finally, Nairobi grabs and shakes Manila’s hand.

“Deal.”

* * *

Denver yawns widely, right into Rio’s face, as they disembark from the plane behind Dragic and Berrote. When he catches him staring at Berrote, Rio digs his elbow into Denver’s ribs making him groan. Berrote turns around, a frown on his face.

“Everything okay Daniel?” he asks and Denver nods frantically, flushing a bright red.

“Yes, everything’s fine, thank you.”

Berrote raises an eyebrow, but goes back to talking to Dragic, who gives Denver a look that’s far too knowing for his liking.

“Shut up,” he mutters when Rio laughs openly at him.

The rest of the group are chattering loudly and he swears when Tokyo jumps on him from behind, arms wrapping around his neck as she cackles in his ear.

“Get the fuck off me,” he says and she does, still laughing.

“Language, Señor Ramos,” a stern voice says from behind him and he goes pale when he turns to see Fonollosa standing next to Murillo who looks unimpressed.

Tokyo shoots Denver an apologetic look and he shrugs. Ahead of them, Berrote stops and glares at Fonollosa.

“We’re not in school, Andrés. Let the kids talk among themselves how they wish,” Berrote says.

Fonollosa, who despite a three hour flight looks impeccable in a maroon suit, smiles coldly at Berrote. “My apologies, it was my impression that we were representing the school and that our students were therefore to behave in a manner that’s polite and respectful.”

Berrote sneers. “Yes well, you would think that, wouldn’t you. I on the other hand, think we should just let the kids be kids.”

The students stare between their teachers, though used to their sniping, they're not used to it happening in front of other teachers. To their credit, both Murillo and Dragic ignore it and start herding everyone over to baggage-claim.

“Told you,” Manila whispers smugly to Nairobi, who purposefully drops her suitcase on Manila’s foot.

“Yes, but Berrote called him Andrés,” she hisses while Manila swears.

Stockholm who’s stood between the two rolls her eyes. “Can we wait with all this bet stuff until we get to the hostel?”

Nairobi and Manila glare at each other, but eventually nod.

* * *

At the hostel, both Manila and Nairobi listen closely when Murillo announces the division of the rooms.

Just as Tokyo and Nairobi start celebrating at having been put in a room together with Manila and Stockholm, the receptionist comes hurrying up to their group and converses with Señor Dragic in German that’s much too fast for any of the students to understand.

Berrote clearly does because he groans, earning a sharp look from both Murillo and Fonollosa.

“They don’t have enough rooms for us teachers,” he says, pointedly looking at Murillo only.

The receptionist hurries off and Dragic confirms what Berrote was saying.

“It’s true, they double booked us with another group. They’ve only got two rooms,” he says and Fonollosa looks horrified at the thought.

Murillo goes back to the student’s room allocations and the gang try to pretend like they’re not listening to the heated discussion that Fonollosa, Berrote, and Dragic are currently engaged in.

“Considering your previous… relationship,” Fonollosa is saying, lip curling at the word. “I really don’t think the school would be happy to learn that you two were sharing a room.”

Berrote scowls, although Dragic is nodding in agreement.

“Likewise, I’m unwilling to share with my sister-in-law,” Fonollosa continues just as Murillo finishes with the students and turns to her colleagues.

“I appreciate that,” she says with a laugh.

Berrote crosses his arms. “Well, I don’t want to share with Raquel, she snores.”

Nairobi claps a hand over Rio’s mouth when he giggles at Murillo’s outraged expression, but she doesn’t seem to be attempting to deny the allegations.

“Guess that means you and Andrés will have to share,” Murillo says to Berrote and Nairobi raises her eyebrows pointedly when there isn’t any protest from him and Fonollosa.

Fonollosa sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I suppose we can do that, even if Berrote is barely tolerable.”

Berrote, who has suddenly gone very red, just nods. “Fine, but if you use up all the closet space with your ridiculous suits, I’m calling the Professor and making a complaint.”

The gang all start talking at once, when Murillo suddenly looks at them, attempting to make it look like they haven’t been blatantly eavesdropping.

* * *

“I told you!” Nairobi says that night, when they’ve all gathered in the girls’ room, Denver and Rio having snuck out once Dragic stopped patrolling the halls with Murillo. “Did you see how red Berrote went? He’s got feelings for Fonollosa!”

Manila shakes her head. “Nope. Still not enough evidence, I thought he looked angry.”

Denver bites his lip. “I don’t know… he didn’t look that angry to me.”

“He looked horny,” Tokyo says and Rio squeaks.

He goes red when the others look at him. “Sorry, I just… they’re like my parents’ age.”

“Old people can have sex too, Rio,” Tokyo says.

“They definitely can,” Denver adds a little dreamily and Stockholm pokes him hard in the ribs.

He yelps, loud enough that the others shush him and then there’s footsteps coming towards their room door and several quick knocks.

Nairobi scowls at them all and then goes to open the door. Berrote and Murillo are stood there, looking distinctly unimpressed when they see Denver and Rio.

“That would explain why when I went to check on the boys, you two weren’t there,” Berrote says, eyebrows nearly drawn high enough to disappear into his hairline.

Murillo shakes her head disappointedly. “Get back to your own room now and we won’t say anything more about it, okay?”

Denver and Rio nod and quickly hurry out into the hallway. Tokyo waves goodbye and then the door to the girl’s room is shutting, leaving the two boys alone with their teachers.

“Do you need a personal escort?” Berrote asks sternly, nodding down the hall to the room where the boys are supposed to be in bed already.

“No,” they both say and hurry off, with just a hurried good night for each of the teachers.

When their door clicks shut behind them, Raquel turns to Martín who’s grinning.

“Do you have to pretend to be so mean?” she asks and he shrugs.

They start back towards their own rooms. “It’s my favourite part of these trips, getting to scare the kids.”

Raquel sighs. “You’re terrible. And why were you and Andrés bitching at each other more than usual?”

“Oh,” Martín says, digging his key out of his pocket. “That’s for the student’s benefit. Apparently, some of them have started a bet on whether or not I have feelings for Andrés.”

“You’d think they’d get smarter,” Raquel says with an eye roll. “But no, year after year, students get way too invested in your personal lives. You know they’d stop if you and Andrés were just open about being married to each other.”

Martín reaches his room door and unlocks it. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, I like getting a free pass for calling Andrés stuck up.”

“Good night, Martín,” Raquel says with a grin and a shake of her head. “Remember, Mirko and I share a wall with you.”

He snorts. “Oh god, don’t remind me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Raquel.”

She waves at him and he lets himself into the room.

Andrés must be freshly showered, because his hair is still damp when Martín finds him already sat in bed, reading some ridiculously thick novel. He puts the book to one side though when Martín starts stripping, changing quickly into his pyjamas.

He crawls into bed next to Andrés who immediately lifts an arm, letting Martín curl into him. He noses at Martín’s hair, one hand running up and down his side.

“Everything okay?” he asks and Martín nods.

“Sure, just the usual. Girls up late talking, boys in the girls room.”

Andrés laughs. “Let me guess, Aníbal and Daniel?”

“Of course,” Martín says.

“They’re really not as subtle as they think they are.”

“They’re seventeen, who has time for subtlety at that age?”

“Well they should start making the time for it,” Andrés says with a smirk. “Maybe then Mirko wouldn’t have heard them loudly betting about us in the cafeteria.”

Martín shrugs. “If it was going to be anyone, it would be that group.”

“True,” Andrés says, then presses a kiss to Martín’s lips.

Martín melts into it, blinking when Andrés pulls away. “What was that for?”

Andrés smiles. “I missed you, I hate having to stay away from you on these trips.”

“At least this time we’re sharing a room – remember last year? I swear I didn’t so much as hold your hand for four days.”

“The horror,” Andrés teases, but his smile is fond as he leans in to kiss Martín again.

Martín is very much into where they’re headed until he ruins it, by breaking the kiss to yawn.

“We should get some sleep, we’ll be on our feet herding students all day tomorrow.”

Martín nods. “You’re right. Good night, mi amor.”

“Good night, Martín, I love you,” Andrés murmurs.

He rolls over to turn off the light and then slides down to be able to put his head on the pillows. Martín immediately plasters himself to Andrés’ back, arms wrapping around his waist, face pressed to the back of his neck, the way he prefers to sleep when they’re away from home.

* * *

Nairobi is grumpy all through breakfast on their third day of the trip, alternately throwing dirty looks at Berrote and Fonollosa. It means quite a lot of head turning for her, since the teachers are sat as far away from each other as possible, at opposite ends of the tables.

They’d toured the Pergamon Museum the day before and while their group was accompanied by both teachers, neither of them had behaved in any way that could be construed as affectionate or romantic.

Fonollosa had waxed poetic about the marble statues and their value both to history and art, while Berrote had stood on the other side of the group and rolled his eyes every time Fonollosa used the word “magnificent” – in fairness to Berrote, the word had been used a lot and Manila and Denver had both lost count around number thirty.

When the students were turned lose to explore Berlin on their own, the gang had decided to try and follow the teachers, but Berrote spent all evening in a wine bar with Murillo and Fonollosa had disappeared somewhere amongst the crowds on the Alexanderplatz.

“Guys!” Tokyo says loudly, slamming her mug of coffee down as she joins the gang at the table, sliding into the seat Rio had saved for her. “Guess what I just heard?”

Manila narrows her eyes, putting down her roll. “What?”

Tokyo gestures for them all to lean in and they do. “Fonollosa is married.”

“What?” Denver says loudly and everyone glares at him when several other students look over at them. “Sorry.”

“How do you know?” Nairobi asks.

“Well, Murillo was talking to Dragic behind me when I was getting coffee,” Tokyo says and as one, the gang turn to look at the coffee machine where aforementioned teachers are indeed standing together. “And Dragic was teasing her about her snoring and asked how the Professor put up with it. And she laughed and said she was lucky because he’s a better husband than his brother is.” Tokyo pauses to draw breath, everyone’s eyes still on her. “And then, Dragic said – and I quote: I was happy to attend his wedding, but I’m really glad I’m not married to Andrés.”

There’s gasps from the gang as they all process this new information.

“Poor Señor Berrote,” Stockholm says quietly. When everyone turns to look at her, she continues. “Well, if he really is in love with Señor de Fonollosa then it must be hard to know he’s got a wife.”

“How do we know it’s not a husband?” Nairobi asks.

Manila snorts. “Please, have you seen how much he looks at Tatiana? That man is definitely straight.”

Denver frowns. “You don’t think that’s why they hate each other?”

“What do you mean?” Stockholm asks.

He looks unsure, but continues anyway. “Well, if Berrote is in love with Fonollosa and we know… maybe Fonollosa knows too? But if he’s straight, maybe he hates Berrote because of it.”

“You think he’s homophobic?” Manila asks seriously.

“It… makes sense?” Tokyo says. “A straight guy whose trans, gay colleague is in love with him – he wouldn’t be the first asshole like that at our school.”

Rio shakes his head. “I mean he’s pretentious and sometimes a bit mean but… you really think he’s homophobic – or even transphobic?”

“Let’s try and gather more proof of that though, before we go around making assumptions,” Stockholm cautions.

Nairobi nods. “I agree, that’s a pretty serious thing to say.”

“We’re having a picnic in the Lustgarten today, aren’t we?” Tokyo asks. “Let’s see if we can find out then.”

* * *

The park is as beautiful as it is every year. Andrés hides the wink he wants to send Martín behind his sunglasses, as he settles under a tree with Raquel. On the other side of their group of ravenously eating students, Martín and Mirko are discussing their plans for the evening. Raquel was recommended an excellent pub with a Biergarten and Mirko is trying to persuade Martín to go, instead of sneaking off for a dinner with Andrés.

Mirko is just listing the types of beer the pub has on offer, when the group that Martín knows is running a bet about him and Andrés, shuffles up to them.

“Can we eat over here?” Silene asks, the boldest of all of them.

Mirko nods. “Of course. Are you guys having fun so far?”

Julia nods. “We are, I’m looking forward to the prison tomorrow – I think it’ll be really interesting.”

“You should speak to Señora Murillo about that,” Martín says. “She wrote her bachelor’s thesis on the Stasi.”

Julia’s eyes go wide and she nods. Martín is about to go back to his sandwich when he notices Daniel shooting him looks from the corner of his eye. This particular student staring at him isn’t entirely unusual, and Andrés, Raquel, and Mirko all love to tease Martín mercilessly about the boy’s obvious crush. He puts up with it good naturedly since usually it’s Raquel and Andrés having to suffer through the teenage hormone-driven obsessions. Today though, Daniel looks unhappy and nervous as his eyes flick towards and away from Martín.

“Is everything okay, Daniel?” Martín asks, biting back a grin when the boy chokes on his soda and goes red, while his girlfriend Mónica slaps him on the back.

He nods, then shakes his head, then nods again, looks over at Andrés and Raquel who are laughing at something, then shakes his head again.

“Daniel, is something wrong?” Mirko tries this time.

Martín notices the other students in their little group looking pretty tense too and he frowns. “What’s going on?”

Daniel bites his lip. “It’s um… about Señor de Fonollosa.”

Martín and Mirko exchange confused glances.

“Okay?” Martín asks, half bracing himself for being directly asked whether he’s in love with him.

“Well,” Daniel says. “You know how you guys hate each other?”

Mirko turns a laugh into a quick cough, but before Martín can say anything, Daniel continues.

“Does… does he hate you because you’re gay?” the boy asks. His eyes flicker over to Julia who looks resigned, when he asks his next question. “Is it because you’re trans?”

Martín’s jaw drops and he looks incredulously at Mirko, who has a similar look of shock and disbelief on his face.

“No,” he finally chokes out. “No, Señor de Fonollosa isn’t transphobic – nor is he homophobic.”

He shoots Mirko a pleading look, when the kids don’t seem convinced.

“Are you sure?” Ágata asks.

“Very,” Martín says.

Mirko nods. “Yeah, he’s married to a man, he’s really not homophobic.”

The students’ eyes all go very wide and Martín shoots Mirko a murderous look.

“Really?” Aníbal gapes.

Martín clenches his jaw, but nods. “Yes. But he doesn’t like people to know, so I’m sure he’d appreciate it if you didn’t go spreading this information around.”

The students all nod seriously and start picking at their lunch, although both Daniel and Julia still look unsure.

When everyone starts packing up, Martín waves the two of them over to one side.

“I appreciate your concern, but now I’m concerned for you two. Has Señor de Fonollosa done anything to you to give you the impression that he is discriminating against anyone?”

They both shake their heads.

“No,” Julia says. “We just thought… because he’s only really mean to you.”

Martín sighs. “He and I share a very specific sense of humour, alright? Any and all snarking is agreed upon. I promise you, he’s a very accepting person who would consider anyone’s sexuality or gender identity valid. Okay?”

“Yes,” Daniel says, already looking happier.

“Good,” Martín says sincerely. “But please do come to me if you have any concerns like this in future.”

Julia smiles. “We will.”

* * *

Andrés frowns when Martín comes back to the room after doing the rounds that night.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, seeing the upset that’s radiating off Martín in waves.

They hadn’t been able to spend any time alone together yet, having been persuaded to go to dinner with Raquel and Mirko, but Andrés noticed that Martín had been off since lunch.

Martín sighs, sliding under the covers once he’s changed and wrapping his arms around Andrés, pressing his face to his chest. Andrés strokes his back, concern building.

“Martín, mi amor, what’s wrong? Did one of the kids say something to you? Because if one of those little shitbags said anything even remotely offensive I’ll –” he starts, riling himself up, but Martín cuts him off.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that, quite the opposite actually.”

Andrés frowns. “What does that mean?”

Martín sighs. “You know how we started all the bickering, when we first got together so no one would know? And then we just kept doing it?”

“I’m aware, I’ve been in this relationship with you the whole time,” Andrés says drily and he can feel the small smile on Martín’s face against his skin.

“Well, today some of the kids asked me about why you hate me?” Martín says quietly.

Andrés snorts. “They think I hate you?”

“There’s more,” Martín says, still sounding upset. “They think it’s because I’m gay and trans. They were genuinely concerned that you hate me because of who I am.”

Andrés is stunned, unconsciously tightening his grip on Martín. “They… what? What did you say?”

Martín looks up at him, chin digging into Andrés’ breastbone. “I made it clear in no uncertain terms that our banter is agreed upon between us and that you would never hate or invalidate anyone.”

“Good,” Andrés breathes, relieved. When Martín winces, he frowns. “What else?”

Martín looks guilty. “Well, Mirko was there too and he was trying to help and...”

“And?” Andrés repeats slowly.

“Well he may have mentioned that you’re married to a man so there’s no way you could be homophobic.”

Andrés groans. “Well, there’s worse ways to be outed I suppose.”

Martín stretches up to kiss him and Andrés lets him, arms winding around his husband’s waist.

“I’m sorry,” Martín says and Andrés shrugs.

“It’s okay, better than the students thinking I’m some sort of bigot.”

“You of all people,” Martín says. “But anyway, I was thinking we should maybe lay off some of the bickering… just for the moment.”

Andrés nods his head. “Agreed.”

* * *

“They’re sitting together,” Tokyo says to Nairobi, pointing to where, a few rows a behind them, Berrote and Fonollosa are sat together.

Manila shakes her head, turning in her seat to look back at them. “That means nothing, it’s a full plane, everyone had to get to their seats quickly.”

Nairobi snorts. “Uh-huh, sure.”

Manila scowls at her. “Look at them, they’re just sat normally, not leaning into each other, not even talking!”

It’s true. Berrote has headphones on, head tilted back in the universal sign for ‘I’m going to try and sleep through this flight, don’t speak to me’, and Fonollosa is reading a book.

“I still think there’s something there,” Nairobi insists. “Remember how nice they were to each other yesterday? Fonollosa didn’t even laugh when Berrote fell down those steps in the Stasi prison.”

“And Berrote bought Fonollosa a coffee at the airport earlier,” Denver says, head popping up from the row in front of them.

Rio’s head joins his, chin resting on the top of his seat. “Friends do that sort of thing too. Besides, Fonollosa is married.”

“Yeah,” Tokyo says emphatically. “Married to Berrote!”

“Pfff,” Manila dismisses. “No way. He would have said so the other day at lunch.”

Stockholm nods, her face appearing in the gap between Rio and Denver’s seats. “True, or Señor Dragic would have said so.”

Nairobi huffs, leaning back in her seat.

Manila smiles smugly at her. “Guess, you’re going on that date with me.”

Nairobi flushes, but doesn’t look as displeased as she should at the thought. Tokyo and Denver exchange a look and Stockholm rolls her eyes.

* * *

When they arrive back in Madrid, the students once again turn watchful eyes on their teachers. But apart from Fonollosa handing Berrote his suitcase from the conveyor belt – an action he then repeats for Murillo – nothing interesting happens.

Once they’re at arrivals, they’re all distracted by their various families waiting for them as if they’ve been gone for months not five days.

Denver and Manila are both pulled into hugs by their dads, which is why they almost miss Murillo’s daughter, sprinting out of her mother’s arms and towards Berrote who is standing next to Fonollosa.

“Tío Martín!” the little girl cries, flinging herself at Berrote, who catches her mid leap.

He hugs her to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Hey, princesa.”

She clings to him, smile wide. “Tío Martín you’ve been gone so long, I haven’t seen you in ages.”

She draws the last word out and Denver and Manila exchange a look.

“How close are Murillo and Berrote?” Manila mutters and Denver shrugs.

* * *

Martín grins as he hugs Paula, catching Raquel’s eye roll at her daughter’s antics. Beside him, Andrés steps forward to playfully poke Paula’s side, making her giggle.

“Paulita, aren’t you going to say hi to me?” he asks and Paula smiles at him, still content to stay in Martín’s arms.

“Hello, Tío Andrés. I missed you too,” she says and he laughs.

“Just not as much as Tío Martín apparently.”

“Don’t be bitter, Andrés,” Martín says smugly. “Besides, princesa you can't have missed us that much. You saw us last weekend.”

Paula nods. “At your wedding anni – anni,”

“Anniversary, princesa,” Martín finishes for her.

“Anniversary,” she repeats.

Martín kisses the top of her head again. “Do you want to ask your mami, if we can go get ice cream?”

Paula nods eagerly and Martín has just started towards Raquel, when a shout stops him in his tracks

“Wedding anniversary? You’re married?” Daniel asks loudly and both Martín and Andrés give him slightly guilty nods.

“Wait, what?” Silene asks, appearing next to them with Ágata and Mónica in tow.

Martín sighs, but before he can say anything, Paula speaks.

“My Tío Andrés says it’s very rude to yell at people,” she says with the seriousness only a six-year-old can muster.

Daniel even looks relatively chastised and Martín sees Andrés beside him, looking torn between pride and laughter.

“You’re right, princesa,” Martín agrees with her. “But Daniel was just yelling because he’s surprised.”

Paula wrinkles her nose. “About what?”

Andrés smiles. “He didn’t know that your Tío Martín and I are married.”

“That’s not a surprise. You’ve been married forever,” Paula says dismissively and this time neither Martín nor Andrés can hold back their laughter.

“Damnit,” Julia suddenly says, frowning at Ágata. “Guess I’ll have to try and get you that date with Bogota.”

Martín raises his eyebrows when Ágata shrugs. “The trip technically ended when we got off the plane.”

“Oh…” Julia blushes and Martín absolutely doesn’t want to know what his students are talking about.

“Well, we’ll see you guys in school next week. Have a good weekend,” Martín says, nodding at his students.

Andrés offers them all a smile and then puts his hand on Martín’s lower back, guiding him through the crowd to where Raquel is still waiting. She rolls her eyes when Paula refuses to let Martín put her down.

“You two really know how to cause a stir,” she says, but her smile belies the seriousness of her tone.

Andrés pecks Martín’s lips demonstratively, making Paula shriek and Raquel laugh. “At least I can do that now, without being afraid someone will see.”

“Maybe don’t do it two inches from our niece’s face, though,” Martín reprimands as he follows Raquel towards where Sergio has been waiting for all of them.

* * *

The gang stares after them, all shocked at what they’d just seen.

“Fuck,” Denver says, sadly. “He really is married to Fonollosa.”

Beside him, Stockholm sighs. “A lesser woman would be concerned by your obsession with your maths teacher.”

“He’s wearing the jeans though,” Denver whines and she kisses his cheek.

“I know,” she says with a sigh. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> okay... horribly fluffy and cheesy and ooc, but here we are.
> 
> maybe leave a kudos or comment if you liked it? or scream at me on tumblr ([@hefellfordean](https://hefellfordean.tumblr.com)) or twitter ([@angstypalermo](https://twitter.com/angstypalermo))


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